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An exploration of dissonance that earned its title while I was eating chilli dogs at the A & W Root beer stand in Gila Bend, Arizona, hypnotized by the brine-laden breezes blowing towards me from the Gulf of California. Scraping, dredging, sea horse skeletons, salt stink, half-mad conquistadors and their hallucinatory ramblings. This piece is not for the harmonically challenged listener, who is perfectly entitled to equate listening to it with swallowing ipecac.